Opinion
Having found the perfect excuse to open his wallet, Adam Goldsmith takes a stroll down vintage alley
Last November I had the distinct pleasure of playing a concert at the London Palladium with one of my favourite soul singers, Beverley Knight, whom I’ll be touring with in late 2019.
This particular concert was celebrating the music of Stevie Wonder. The band comprised Ed Richardson on drums and Jethro Tull’s Jonathan Noyce on bass (sporting a beautiful ’62 Precision – I did a fair bit of drooling over this), as well as a full brass section, keys and string section. The combination of a great band, great music and a great singer all playing live together doesn’t happen to me every week, so I knew it was going to be a night to remember.
I’ll also use any old excuse to buy a guitar. So I decided, after looking at various older Strats for a year or two, to take the plunge using this gig as a pretext. As I’ve mentioned in these pages before, I’ve developed quite an interest in vintage guitars over these past few years, and my main guitars are both from the 60s – a Cherry Red ’67 335 and a refinished Sunburst Tele from the same year.
The fundamental problem for a jobbing musician with an enthusiasm for this subject is that it’s an incredibly expensive business. I knew a mint ’62 was out of the question, but how to get that vibe and feel on a more limited budget for the working musician? I started looking at three guitars on London’s Denmark Street. I knew by shopping there I’d be paying slightly over the odds, but equally I’d have some comeback if things weren’t quite as advertised, which is a hazard in the vintageguitar market when buying from individuals.
Conditional Love
The first guitar was actually a mint example of a ’69, often referred to as a ‘Hendrix’era Strat, and because it was well into the CBS era, it was a relatively decent price at £6,000. I picked it up and it was perfectly serviceable and sounded like a Strat. However, it was still not really anything I couldn’t have had from the custom shop (not that year specifically) for a much smaller outlay, and it lacked that magic the right vintage guitar can provide.
Up next was a refinished ’62. This was admittedly more than I wanted to spend at £9,000, but I wanted to know what I was missing if I compromised too much. Sadly (or perhaps happily), ‘not much’ was the answer, and, again, I felt a custom shop at less than half the price could well have been better. It was a lovely guitar, albeit with a slightly odd Fiesta Red/Pink refinish, but still not having quite enough magic for me to lay out that much (I find it helpful to carry around a picture of my wife looking cross at these moments).
Last up, was the wildcard – a ’64 neck (transition logo but with the clay dots, Brazilian rosewood), ’64 pickups but with an unidentified mid-to-late 60s ash body. It had been roughly refinished (think a white version of Brent Mason’s Telecaster) and I’ve had five different opinions from five different people on what year the body is. It also needed a new nut and I’d need to have more modern frets put on to make it playable. So, all in all, a bit of a mongrel, but within a minute of playing I knew it was the one for me.
The neck was perfect and it sounded way better than the other two more expensive guitars. Apparently, it was previously owned by a local professional musician who had played it for years, but, through old age, was unable to play it anymore. At £4,000, I snapped it up, a custom-shop price for a guitar with a colourful history and a great feel and sound was perfect for me. I used it for the Beverley Knight gig and I haven’t enjoyed myself that much in a very long time – she was absolutely amazing and I haven’t put the Strat down since.